Chapter Seventeen Violet
Chapter Seventeen
Violet
I’d held Harper for the last twenty minutes while Charlie and his ex from hell had remained out in the kitchen. And now Charlie had strolled into the room like some sort of superhero, and I was mesmerized at the way he was talking to his daughter.
“Come on now, baby girl. It’s your special day. It looks like Pinkalicious puked out in the kitchen—we can’t let all those decorations go to waste.” He was bent down low to the ground as he stroked her hair.
She giggled for the first time since she’d run down the hallway.
“Pinkalicious doesn’t puke, Daddy.”
“No? Well, there’s a lot of pink out there, and your friends should be arriving any minute,” he said, his voice calm and deep.
“I didn’t want to wear the fancy necklace.” Harper sat forward and sniffed a few times as her father pulled her from my arms and wrapped her up as he pushed to a full stand.
“You don’t have to wear the necklace. I shouldn’t have allowed her to come here. I didn’t handle that right, but I will handle things differently moving forward, all right?” he said as he rocked her back and forth and she clung to him.
“Because it’s you and me against the world, right, Daddy?” she said before glancing over at me. “And Violet can stay here with us as long as she wants. She’s our family too.”
I felt my chest contract, and I stood up.
“Aw . . . I’ll give you two a few minutes to clean up. I’ll meet you out there.” I’d started to move when Charlie’s hand wrapped around my wrist, and he pulled me close.
“She’s right. You can stay as long as you want. Thanks for taking care of my girl for me.” He tucked me into his chest, and the three of us just stood there hugging.
It felt wonderful and overwhelming all at the same time.
I was getting too attached.
I’d never felt like I fit anywhere, and in a way, that was safer than hoping I’d fit somewhere.
It was both exciting and terrifying. I liked how I felt when I was with them, but I also didn’t want to be another person who let Harper down if this was all just a temporary situation.
The doorbell rang. Charlie let his arm drop as I stepped back, and he put Harper down on her feet.
“I’ll get the door, and you can help Harper get cleaned up,” he said, winking at me before he mouthed the words Thank you.
And when Charlie Huxley appreciated you, it felt like you were on top of the world.
I nodded and took Harper into the bathroom, where I fixed her ponytail and cleaned up her face.
“You look like you’re ready for the best party ever,” I said, kissing her on the cheek as she stared in the mirror.
“Violet,” she said, reaching for my hand. “I love you.”
A large lump formed in my throat, and I nodded. “I love you too, Harper Huxley.”
“Let’s go party.” She clapped in excitement and then skipped out of the room, tugging me along with her like I belonged right beside her.
A few of her classmates had arrived, and I hurried to get the food out and the cake set up on the dessert table. We had the doors to the backyard open, and the kids were running in and out.
Harper’s best friend Lily had already asked me if I’d plan her birthday party.
“Thanks a lot, Charlie,” Tim said with a laugh. “Now we have to hire party planners for our kids.”
“Hey, they only have so many birthdays. I’m not against it,” Jeanne said, bumping me with her shoulder. “But I didn’t know you did birthday parties. I thought you only did weddings.”
“She does,” Montana said as she and Myles walked over. “But she made an exception for Harper. Although I will say, I wouldn’t have guessed kids’ parties were your thing, but this is pretty spectacular.”
“Well, Harper is pretty spectacular,” I said, and I looked up to see Charlie watching me. He had a beer in his hand, and his gaze never left mine.
“Excuse me, lady,” a loud, whiny voice said as she tugged my hand unusually hard.
“Um, yes?” I gaped at her, unsure why she was being so aggressive.
“I’m Denise Quigley,” she said, and then I remembered her from the diner.
“Ah, yes. Denise Quigley. What can I do for you?”
“You can do my party in a few weeks.” She smiled up at me, and her mom hurried over.
“Sweetie, we already booked your party at the country club,” her mom said, reaching for her hand.
“I don’t want my party at the country club. I want a Pinkalicious party!” she shouted.
And this is why I normally don’t care for children.
Harper would never behave like this, and I glanced over to see her and Lily at the photo booth with a couple of other kids, holding up the props as their parents took photos.
“A country club party sounds amazing,” I said.
Charlie interrupted and called everyone to come get sandwiches, and thankfully Denise Quigley and her mother moved on to more exciting things.
Harper came over and pulled me around the corner. “Denise Quigley said this is the best party ever.”
“The best party for the best girl,” I said.
Lily came hurrying around the corner and called for Harper to come eat, and we walked hand in hand back into the kitchen.
All the kids ate, as did the adults. Harper loved her Pinkalicious cake with its big gold crown on the top.
Montana helped me clean up most of the decorations when the party finally started winding down.
Lily and Harper were going through her gifts after all the other kids had left.
Charlie, Myles, and Benji were having cocktails with Lily’s parents.
Montana told Myles she was ready to head home, and I was exhausted myself.
I hugged Harper goodbye, and I said goodbye to everyone who was still lingering.
I avoided Charlie, and I didn’t know why.
Things had gotten heavy today, and my gut told me I should put some distance there. I made my way to the guesthouse and went to the bathroom immediately, turning on the water to run a bath.
It had been a long day.
I undressed and slipped into the tub, groaning at how nice it felt to soak.
I closed my eyes and smiled, thinking about all the times I’d looked over at Harper and found her laughing and smiling.
After all that had gone down with her mom, I was happy that she was able to rebound.
My phone rang, and I saw my mother’s name flash across the screen. I hesitated, as it was well past dinnertime, and I knew that meant she’d be deep into a bottle of whiskey, which was never a great time to speak to her.
But I answered.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, holding the phone in one hand while the other rested in the tub water.
“Hey, yourself. I haven’t talked to you in a week. What’s going on?”
“I’ve just been swamped with work. I’m still renovating my house, so I’ve got a lot going on over there too,” I said.
“Must be nice to own your own home.”
Actually, yes, it is. I’ve worked damn hard for it.
“I’m looking forward to getting settled. You’ll have to come see it.”
“If you buy me a ticket, I’ll come,” she said.
“I told you to let me know when you have a few days off, and I’ll book the ticket.”
“Okay, I’ll let you know. I was calling because I didn’t get my check yet for this month, and money’s tight,” she said, her words slurring a little bit as she spoke.
“I don’t send checks anymore, Mom, remember? I transferred the money directly into your account three days ago. Just like I do every month.”
“Oh. I didn’t look at the account. I kept checking the mailbox,” she said.
She didn’t thank me. She didn’t tell me that she appreciated that I contributed $500 a month toward her living expenses. She just expected it. Like I owed her.
“It’s in the account.”
“Well, you can thank your father for that, because if I had a partner, I wouldn’t have to rely on you.”
I closed my eyes and counted down from ten. Nine. Eight. Seven.
“You know what, Mom,” I said, sitting forward in the tub because I was over this same conversation, “Dad left both of us before I was born. You need to stop blaming him for everything and take control of your life. That’s what I’m doing.”
She was quiet for a few beats, so I knew she was going to weaponize her next words.
“You’ve always been ungrateful. You know, your father and I were very happy before I had you.” Her words were dragging, and I knew she was drunk.
I knew she didn’t mean it.
But it still hurt.
So, I did what I always did—I pulled my hard outer shell over my heart to shield it.
“Well, I wasn’t born yet, so I’m sorry that me being in the womb was such a struggle for your relationship.”
I was tired of her guilting me about something that I had no control over. Blaming me for her life not going the way that she wanted it to. Normally I could just bite my tongue where my mother was concerned. I’d had years of conditioning. But today, today felt different.
Seeing the way that Caroline treated Harper wasn’t sitting well with me. And maybe things were just hitting too close to home now. I was proud of Harper for having an outburst and sharing her discomfort with the situation, and maybe it was time I started doing the same with my own mother.
“What’s with the attitude, Violet?”
“I’m tired, Mom. You’re welcome for the money. You’re welcome for tolerating your abusive behavior my entire life. How about you call me when you have something nice to say, all right?”
“I wouldn’t hold your breath,” she hissed, and I knew it was the booze talking.
I shouldn’t have answered the phone.
“I won’t.” I ended the call and stepped out of the tub, drying myself off with a towel before slipping on my robe.
I will not cry.
I will not cry.
I will not cry.
I was a pro at pushing away my feelings.
The knock on the door startled me, and I tightened the belt on my robe and peeked through the little window beside the door.
Charlie.
I cracked the door open. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah, of course. I just got out of the tub, hence the robe.” I stepped back, opening the door farther.
“Even better.” He chuckled before studying me after I’d closed the door. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.” He followed me into the small living space, dropping to sit on the couch.
“Where’s Harper?” I asked as I took the seat beside him.
“She ended up going home with Lily for a sleepover.”
“Oh,” I said, surprised, because I knew she’d only slept away from home one other time.
“I actually asked them if they would be okay to have her tonight.” He cleared his throat, appearing nervous, which was not the norm for this man.
“You did? Why? I would have had her spend the night here if you needed a night off.”
He smiled just slightly. “I didn’t need a night off, Firefly. I wanted to come talk to you, actually.”
“What did you want to talk to me about?”
“Well, first, I wanted to thank you for everything you did today. For my daughter. For me.” He shrugged. “It meant a lot. I don’t like relying on people, and you just seem to keep showing up for us. I wanted you to know that I’d noticed, and that I appreciated it.”
“Charles,” I said, making no attempt to hide my smile. “That might be the most words you’ve ever said to me in one sitting.”
He smiled. “I have more to say.”
“Okay.”
“I like you, Violet Beaumont. Even when you’re aggravating me and changing your design plans for the hundredth time. Even when you’re challenging me, or accusing me of being a serial doll killer. I. Like. You.”
I don’t know why his words triggered something in me.
I should have just been happy that he’d admitted that he felt the same way I felt.
But instead, I did the one thing I never in a million years thought I’d do.
I tried to speak, and my voice cracked.
And before I could stop myself—the tears started falling.
And I broke down in front of Charlie Huxley.